Page 82 of War Queen
Only a single nod in reply.Yes.
He was talking to her. Two answers now. This was further than she’d gotten with him before. He wastalking.Her heart beat faster. “But how did you send it to me? How can you… engage?”
No answer.
She sighed, frustrated. “Is ityourblood?”
He pulled back slightly. His mouth opened, then closed. Then he stilled. He wasn’t going to answer.
Of course he wouldn’t. Because it wasn’t his blood.
She brought her hand to her forehead, clutching her temples. She should have listened to Soren.
But his touch on her arm made her pause. He pulled her hand down for her to look at him.
Then he gave a nod.
Her eyes narrowed. Was he answering her? “Yes, it’s your blood?”
He nodded again.
“That’s not possible.”
He only watched her.
“No,” she insisted.
But the blues of his eyes looking back at her—they weren’t lying. He nodded again.
She gritted her teeth. “Gods, why do I believe you?” she whispered. She stared at him. “But your body… How? How is that possible? I saw you sealed in the Hall of Souls. Your body is… there should be no blood to send. And even if there were…” She rubbed her hand over her face. This didn’t make any sense. Alexander’s dead body was sealed in a sarcophagus, in a hall under guard. How could he reach her?
Unless it wasn’t Alexander. Soren was so sure. But as she looked at him, he couldn’t be anyone else. There were details that lived only in her memories, things only she and Alexander would have known—the shell bracelet. Yet… there was something…
“Do you deceive me?”
His eyes—she couldn’t read them now. They almost seemed… sad.
Just as she was about to ask him again, he reached behind him and pulled out a box. A navy velvet box. Her heart beat even faster.
She knew this box.
Gently, he placed it in her hands.
Norah couldn’t breathe. Her fingers trembled as she stepped to the vanity and set it down. She could only stare at it.
Norah glanced back at him in disbelief, and the corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly. He gave a small nod.
She turned back to the box, finally summoning the courage to open it, and blinked back her tears.
Her mother’s crown.
“Where did you find this?” she whispered.
No. He couldn’t have found it. This was a vision.It wasn’t real. When she left this dream, she’d leave the crown too. But to hold it in her hands, see it, touch it—this was truly a gift, and only people who loved her would know how much it meant to her.
She stood and turned to him, and without even thinking, pulled him into an embrace. “Thank you,” she whispered.
He wrapped his arms around her and embraced her back—an embrace Alexander would give, because somehow this was Alexander.
